


My L'Quirkburg

by ClassicClara



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Quirks (My Hero Academia), Angst, BAD BOY HERO, Bad Boy Halo Hero, Eret hero or villain?, M/M, Nihachu Hero, Not finished yet, Philza would do anything for his kids, Skeppy Hero, Suicide mention, Techno still hates all government, Techno the assassin fits, The fam are villains, Tommy wants to be a Villain like his brothers, TommyInnit likes women, Tubbo wants to be a hero, Villain Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Villain Sapnap, Wilbur secret dream to be a musician, first fic, sad pasts, trying to keep motivation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:07:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27766492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClassicClara/pseuds/ClassicClara
Summary: George was quirkless. What as he thought, useless, a waste of oxygen. Refused for almost every job he applied for as of his quirklessness, he walked though a rather suspicious looking alleyway. With crime at an all time high, it was more than likely a villain would be awaiting him in darkness, maybe it would all be over... he hoped. Little did George know, a person, or should I say villain, fashioned in a circular mask with a childish yet intimidating smile design, covering his face; a highly- ranked villain, impossible to catch, pursued by multiple familiar heroes, taking George hostage: transporting him to a cramped base, with a few other figures looming around him."Just kill me if you need to."The masked villain did not persist...
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Dave | Technoblade & TommyInnit & Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson, Floris | Fundy & Niki | Nihachu, Floris | Fundy & Phil Watson, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Comments: 40
Kudos: 251





	1. 'Are you Quirkless?'

**Author's Note:**

> First chapter of first fic! Just a brief idea I had one night and decided to do something with myself for once. I should probably be sleeping but enjoy a Quirk AU

* * *

It was a brisk Autumn day, from the view from the top of the modernised building, you could spy the regular bustling of life of a city. Flood lights and the few rays of sunshine, reaching through the classic British weather, hit the surface of what seemed like spotless glass, perfectly reflecting a person.

With hazel brown hair and eyes, George flushed out all feelings of doubt, leaving an empty void and ringing in his ears as he sat in the spacious modernised-office, almost fully rehearsed for what was about to be addressed from the man across the polished dark oak desk, adorned in a rather luxurious suit, giving a slight edge to the situation.

 _"I guess that's it."_ , George thought as the man scanned the papers adequately. The employer paused.

"Excuse me, but may you tell me your quirk, sir?"

"I don't have one.", George interrupted, heart cold, knuckles clenched: _he'd lost it all._

"Ah, alright. Well then, we are done here, you shall be escorted out, kindly of course. I'm sorry to disappoint you but I am afraid we cannot appoint you into this company, we are just afraid you would not fit into the overall environment of our workplace.", the man said in a rather authoritative tone.

"I understand.", he spoke, shuddering, acquiring his belongings and proceeding to make a clear path to the elevator, being careful not to glance back at the employer's stern glaze as he communicated with his supervisor.

 _"You've done it again, George."_ he told himself distinctively, another blow to the gut, but instead this time ripping himself apart, both his hope and spirit wasted, _again_.

Beaten, he took a rather peculiar route home this time, a narrow alleyway, a longer and widely more dangerous route: due to an increase in crime, with quirks came villains, demanding those under the titles of 'Heroes' to apprehend and cease those using their quirks for wrong. George had never liked either, especially quirks, due to him not possessing a quirk, he had been taken for granted his entire existence.

Treated like dirt, _well maybe dirt was treated better than him_ , moved aside in any possible social situations, bullied and abused, no one cared. No one ever had for the _quirkless kid._ George swore to make them regret that, become rich and successful, live a happy life _without_ a quirk, be **_normal._**

Nevertheless, it was now over, after the 12th failed interview, what was he going to do? It wasn't like he had anyone significant who would care if he _disappeared_ or even _perished_ , he wasn't even sure if anyone would bother to attend his funeral, if there was no point... then why try, when he could end his suffering so promptly. He walked patiently down the small route between desolate buildings, a thick stench of alcohol and cigarette smoke hanging in the air. Villains were well known for inhabiting the city, hiding in the shadows. George had walked into the most obvious of all, with a slight feeling of anticipation boiling in his stomach, so _maybe_... _just maybe_....

**BANG**

* * *

A solid bang in the distance left screams and chaos the spread like wildfire around him, a blaze roaring behind as a tall figure began to sprint behind him from the opening of the pathway

The light from the towering flames left slight vision of the 'creature' behind him. Fashioned in a circular mask with a childish yet intimidating design covering his face, a yellow or perhaps green, in his colour-blind vision, hood covering his hair and upper body. _Maybe now?_

However, it was too late, the figure quickly turned his arm into a dark fogged claw, grasping Georges neck, like a dagger to the throat, George wondered what his quirk was if he was over imagining the situation

It only took a quick interval, under a his slight daze of confusion and curiosity, to be completely be identified as a hostage as a couple heroes were tagged on his tail, quickly taking recognition of his situation, stopping cautiously.

One was female, with light blond hair complementing her flawless eyeliner and facial features, she wore what appeared to be a weaponised tank top, padded leggings and tactical trainers, directing a weak ray of light in his captors direction, although the masked man dodged seamlessly. Another appeared to have short horns and long, vorpal claws, feasting on the darkness, surging with power. The masked captor was not afraid of this though, instead he stood still firmly pressing the fogged claw against his neck, drips of blood began to fall in the glow of the blaze behind. The third hero appeared to have glistening jewels growing oft his skin, _useful for piercing through ones skin_.

The one with the diamonds began to become reluctant in rescuing George, instead backing away, putting a shaking arm towards his colleagues, signalling to back off, a satisfied grin perched on the exposed area of the what appeared to be Villains face.

"Dream, we will persist if you can give us the hostage.", 'Skeppy' informed this so called captor named 'Dream'.

"Woah, woah, a hostage? Nah this is just my buddy, what's your name?", Dream teased, in a friendly yet aggressive tone, pushing the claw just slightly more firmly to his neck.

" _George_.", he said trembling.

"Dream. We need an answer. It doesn't seem like George is your friend, we don't hold friends with a knife to their neck.",the horned one informed.

Dream rolled his eyes, _they spoke to him like a child_ , leaving George once again faithless in the modernised society, embracing his death to another stupidity of quirks and what they had brought.

"And I thought this would be _fun._ " Dream sighed as a dark mist inhaled both, leading Georges eyes to shut and body to completely collapse under Dream, struggling to hold onto the cliff of his conscious , eventually giving in as he watched those who called themselves 'heroes' to flail forward towards the two disappearing into the dense fog, unsuccessfully.

George hastily let his head drop, cushioned by his arm as the masked figure began to raise the mask ever so slightly, leaving his last remains of consciousness.

_**"Sorry..."** _


	2. I recall, your name is Dream?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George wakes up in an unknown location, a masked man going by ‘Dream’ sitting at the foot of the bed, simply staring at the floor.
> 
> Our quirkless ‘hostage’ of sorts meets a child and a slightly older child, and may even run into the blade himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY MOTHER OF GOD THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE KUDOS AND COMMENTS I DID NOT EXPECT THAT-
> 
> Honestly THANK YOU SO MUCH I feel so much more confident in my writing :)
> 
> Sorry if uploads are slow during the week I have school and the wonders of homework :’(
> 
> Oooo and an awesome song! (Trying to fit Dream quirk au into it, it’s amazing and I love it)  
> Marionettes (Dream Theme)  
> By Kanaya on YouTube

* * *

  
When George woke, he found himself in a cramped room of sorts, head aching and heart beating like it was about to rip his chest in half.

He peered to his left, where there were a few resources, such as gas canisters and ominous grey bags. To his right a hallway, only lightly within his blurry vision, without his glasses.

George heard muffled voices, where the hallway was visible, it sounded like a mixture of two people arguing and bickering , " _Like siblings_ ", George thought, though he never had any of his own.

After trying to eaves-drop for a while, he heard what he thought to be quirk usage spark into an even more heated argument, a loud wave of sound suddenly struck the thin metal walls, leaving an echo effect. George finally made out a voice clearly, after the short pause.

"WHAT THE FUCK, TOMMY?", a voice screamed.

"WELL THEN YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE SAID THAT ABOUT MY FRIEND, BITCH.", Tommy, he assumed, responded.

The two continued to scream and quarrel through the hallways, until George noticed the sound of a teacup being placed: _a classic British sense_.

He drowsily peered behind him, to see the masked man waiting at the head of the bed, causing his heart sort of bounce through his rib cage from the shock, sipping on a cup of coffee as screams continued to echo down the hallway.

"Loud, aren't they?", he commented, staring straight into the direction of a couple flasks on an ivory-white plastic table next to him. It was silent for a few seconds between the masked man he recalled to be Dream and himself.

"W-where are we?", George questioned, still half-asleep. Dream paused again, turning his head slightly in Georges direction, the howling from the hallways suddenly became oblivious to George, eyes fixed on the mask, the intensity densely hanging the air.

" _Somewhere_."

George looked at him for a second, confused. It was only then he remembered that Dream _was_ a villain, and that he _was_ a hostage, were the other people in the hallways also stuck here? Would he be here forever? Did anyone even care that he was now gone?

Abruptly, footsteps hailed down the hallways to reveal two people, one appeared to be a child and the other, well an older child in George’s opinion.

“OI DREAM! DID YOU ‘EAR WHAT THIS BITCH SAID?!”, a blonde child screamed (to be fair, he looked around 16 but George lead to this decision as of his now ringing ears).

The blonde boy appeared to have a red and white t-shirt and casual denim jeans.

 _“A bit too relaxed looking for a villain, surely.”,_ George thought, rather perplexed about a teenager being in a villains’ base.

“SHUT UP YOU LITTLE IDIOT. WHY THE BLOODY HELL DID YOU USE YOUR QUIRK ANYWAYS? YOU’RE GONNA BE THE DEATH OF ME SOMEDAY YOU KNOW?”, the tall brunette ‘older child’ argued back, eventually turning the conversation into what seemed like a game of ping pong between who could be louder.

Dream didn’t look amused, simply staring at the floor (George presumed through the mask).

“Tommy, Wilbur, meet George.”, Dream said, surprising calm, even after their sudden appearance.

“Why’s he ‘ere?”, Tommy asked.

“Meh, just felt like it.”

He _what,_ was Dream trying to say he didn’t take George as a hostage? That he wasn’t just going to be killed for knowing too much information? A pig to slaughter?

“Looks like he’s gonna be with us for a while. If he wants, of course.”, Dream smiled from the gap of the mask tediously, leaving George paler than the ghost he had already felt escaping his body.

“Really? I always needed a new buddy, very considerate of you, I dare say!”, Wilbur almost complimented, a rather posh accent included.

“No.”

“No?”

“Leave.”

“Aw come on! We only just met the guy!”

“Do I need to call Techno? Tell him you finally have enough courage to duel him?”

“Good luck on your own, Tommy!”, Wilbur quickly responded, a slight spring in his step as he quickly speed-walked down the hallway.

“Hey,” Tommy whispered to George, Dream’s gaze quickly targeted towards them, “The green man can be smart and cunning n all, no idea why he wanted you, but I suspect good reasons by his response to Wilbur”

George had no idea if this was good or bad, as Tommy walked off into the direction Wilbur took.

“So are they siblings or something?”, George asked

“Adopted. But emotionally? Absolutely. One of the main reasons I work with them in particular.”

_Work with them?_

“So, are they villains too? That Tommy kid looked quite young…”

“Well Wilbur kind of is… more so underground. Tommy is in training, always follows under his brothers wings. Kind of annoying for them I guess…”

“Ah, ok.”

Dream paused for a moment, as George examined the quality of the room he was in, not too shabby, but at least this Dream guy seemed to at least have some sort of social skills by th ebook of things, and not just some crazed psychopath, as he appeared to be.

“In case your wondering why you’re here,”, Dream said, breaking the ice, “I honestly don’t know either, you just looked easy to talk to, and a bit, well…sad. I kind of related, you know?”

George blinked for a second, was this a trap? Is this just to calm him down for his awaiting death, maybe.

Although, in a way, Dream did seem ever so slightly trustworthy. Villain or not, he was something else.

* * *

It was a few hours later that Dream left, not locking the door behind him, oddly: the masked man told George that he had to attend to something.

The hallway looked interesting, maybe he could scout a window to try and perhaps recognise his location, but definitely not try to escape.

Who knows what other villains were roaming those hallways?

Free or whatever Dream was trying to imply, there was no way he was going to risk running into a villain, especially a man with pig characteristics walking straight towards his current area, wearing a velvet gown and holding a glowing sword.

_Wait-_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Sleep is for the weak”- Sun Tzu


	3. Life or Death?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George just so happens to cross paths with the far too elegant ‘pig-man’, sparking a chaotic reunion Ishtar the two ‘children’
> 
> Is also faced with a choice many would definitely not be tasked with deciding in the matter of a few hours: life or death, with key reasoning and judgement to persuade the masked man himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay! But hey 150 kudos?! And 1000+ hits?! :O
> 
> I’m so thankful for the kind comments and hope you enjoy the chapter :D
> 
> Uploads will be a bit slow this week as it’s my birthday on Thursday! :)))))

The pig-like man leaned in his direction, sending a shiver down his spine, as if someone had shook him continuously back and forth: a warning.

A gurgle in his stomach was enough to swiftly turn around the closest corner to his area of which he had been held before.

George continued down the hallway, reluctant to look behind, his heart beating violently, becoming deafened to all outside noises.

_Shit…._

George felt a firm grip on his shoulder, clawed and such indescribable strength as he felt his shoulder go numb.

A dreary daze came over him as he felt the blood flow stopping thought his left shoulder, attempting to use his right arm to remove it.

The hand quickly let go, as George gripped his arm in pain, hissing under his breath.

“….what…?”, he muttered, the space around the hostages location, dead silent, only the sound of heavy breathing.

George finally turned to inspect this in-human creature of some sort, causing him to jump a little at the sight.

The man appeared to wear a mask over his eyes, with large incisors, representing of a pig or boar, perhaps; dark holes where he presumed his eyes were hidden, impossible to make out, even under the blinding flood lights in the hallways and a snout perched under.

The man simply froze still, so did George, a lifeless expression stuck to his face.

“Sorry.” , it spoke, a deep and triggering voice, as George noticed the large blade held firmly in his hand, though he didn’t appear to be pointing it towards his helpless-form, simply tucking it away into it’s scabbard.

“It’s fine…”

There was a brief moment of silence; only for a fortunate familiar voice to break the tension.

“OI TECHNO WHERE YA BEEN?”, Tommy shouted from only just around the corridor.

The once threatening man to George appeared to sigh, looking both disappointed and unamused at the sound of Tommy, his expression suddenly overwhelmed in boredom.

“Can you ever shut up, Tommy?”, ‘Techno’ questioned, sarcastically, ears poking to the side, slightly.

“EYY GEORGE IS ‘ERE!”, Tommy exclaimed ecstatically.

“Wait what is George doing here?”, the ‘second child’ came from behind Tommy.

_Fuck._

“I was…uhhh…exploring, I guess?”

_You’re an idiot, George._

“Let me guess,”, Tommy interrupted, smirking slightly, “you saw Techno and ran?”

“Ummm…”

“HA. HE DID!”

“The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting.”, Techno quoted.

“Sun Tzu?”, George asked, politely, in recognition of the name: an old Japanese war genius.

“Ah I see a man of culture.”

“He’s always quoting the bloody stuff, it gets annoying.”, Wilbur added, Techno shot a look of betrayal in his direction, “So uh anyways George, you know Technoblade, correct?”

“No.”

“Well, George, this is Technoblade. And Technoblade, George.”

“Nice to meet you…”, George attempted to hold out his hand for a handshake but the bullet like pain in his shoulder said otherwise.

“Sorry about that one, by the way…”

“Don’t worry.” George said, holding out his other hand instead, a much more awkward method.

“I presume you don’t have a quirk.”

George froze

_How the hell…_

“Usually, when most people look into the mask for the first, their quirk automatically triggers. If I’m correct, then you must either have a late quirk, or none at all.”

“Techno, that’s rather rude of you to think, I’m pretty sure Dream would have a reason to bring him here…”

George’s heart dropped faster than a lead balloon.

“Sorry, but I have to head back now…”

“Oh, ok. See you around, George!”, Tommy waved him off, a friendly node from Wilbur and a simple glare from Technoblade.

* * *

He sprinted back to his sleeping area, not to his surprise, Dream was once again sat at the foot of the bed, staring blankly at the floor, yet this time more frozen, only his finger slowly tapping against his leg.

“Dream?”

He stayed silent, face still fixed on the laminate floor.

“I need to go-“ , Dream said, beginning to end his infinite gaze from the floor and towards the hallways.

“Wait, what?”

“I need to go.”

George simply stared, before a sudden shot of adrenaline hit him, like a bullet, courage was fortunate to allow him to reach out, to touch the yellow hooded man’s shoulder.

“Am I… going to be here forever?.”, George stated trying to get a clear view of the mask, as Dream remained hesitant to turn around.

George felt a sick feeling in his stomach as Dream remained once again, in his classic frozen statue like trance, the floor drawn to what he believed his eyes were, hidden under the mask.

_Wait, why did Dream wear a mask?_

George stared at the mask, then back onto clouded thought, subconsciously, an arm outstretched to the string supporting the mask to Dream’s face.

He gently touched it, only to find his hand burning, blisters forming on the end of his fingers, leaving nasty black marks to spread like wildfire down George’s hands.

George quickly withdrew his hand, Dream turned, a straight expression visible from his lips.

“Rule No.1. If you wish to live, don’t touch the mask.”

In that moment, in was as if Dream had completely **switched** , a more confident and authoritative version taking its place.

“Although, I apologise for not warning you about, **that**.”

George gaped at his now ash covered hand, burning, aching, a stench of burning flesh hanging in the air.

“You should probably put that under cold water, though, under the ash, there may be a few markings that cannot be removed depending on the desire to pull off the mask: an enchantment crafted by yours truly.” Dream spoke, in an unreadable tone.

“And the answer to my question.”, George hadn’t got his hand almost burnt off without a reply.

“Much to my disappointment, George. It’s a decision on your choice, and whether I believe you are choosing wisely.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means, George. I’m letting you make a life or death decision.”

Everything paused.

”Depending on your choice and reason, I will judge if it’s wise or not and perhaps adding on. For example, you may pick life, because you want to live, to perhaps see someone, achieve something, etc. Although, I may decide to erase your memory, leaving you stranded, alone. Or, perhaps death, because you believe that there is no reason in your existence, maybe from your quirklessness or just life in general. My decision is varied depending on the reason. Either way, you should have an answer for me in about…2 hours, a lot of pressure I know, but choose wisely and I’ll be back; I have to attend to something.”, Dream announced, opening this door to close behind him this time.

“And George?”

George stayed quiet, blankly eyeing the Ivory floor.

“Know that I didn’t just leave you there without reason.”

The door shut, an automated lock clicked as Dream left, leaving George in complete silence.

He glared at his ash coated hand, faintly proceeding to walk to the sink located in his cell of sorts, gently washing his hand, stinging as if needles were being prodded back and forth in a continuous cycle through his hand, more so through his fingers.

His mind stayed fixed on Dreams words, reevaluating every syllable he uttered in that phrase, why would he choose the quirkless hostage?

Above all else, it would be idiotic to pick a quirkless hostage, _no one would care._

George’s hazel eyes were drawn to the hand almost instantaneously.

Confusion scattered among his thoughts.

A smiling child-drawn face, the identical design to Dream’s mask, fashioned as a tattoo on his hand.

He stared at the tattoo for a a moment, gaze perplexed.

Although invisible, in that moment, small threads linked and expanded into strong ropes connecting two of the most unlikely of beings, looping and bonding together tightly, to form something **unique:** something **restored** for the better of both.

George didn’t bother trying to wash the tattoo off.

**He’d made his choice.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Here have some chicken.” - George 2020


	4. ( IMPORTANT NOTE )

Long story short, this idiot reposted a chapter at 2am whilst being sleep deprived! :)

Sorry if you had to witness that, sleep deprivation is bad and I recommend sleeping!

The funny thing is that I even thought to myself, and I quote, "It would be so awkward if this chapter in my drafts was a repost for whatever reason... oh well!"

I honestly don't know what was going through my head- I just found chapter 4 in my drafts and thought I'd wrote it at some point and never uploaded- kill me.

Thanks everyone who told me it was a repost, or my 3 braincells and I would have never noticed.

I'll try and post a new chapter in apology for that-

Yes, you have permission to laugh at me, I deserve that.

(And also I will probably delete this fic idk- I always freak out when I upload that I've screwed up or something and always find it so upsetting reading through my own work, there's a possibility I may continue but the chances are slim.)

(If I do then I'm really sorry and if you want to continue it there please feel free to tag me because I'd love to hear your theories and stuff :) )

Many apologies,

Clara


End file.
